I have dreamed for you a postcard. Do you like my spirit animal, my guard, my mountain lion, my brute of strong physique? As you can see, I have only the essentials: the Full Moon, seven stars and a cerulean sky. The clouds, for my ease, have arranged themselves into a line of meringue mountains. The sea is robin-egg’s blue and is as still and as calm as can be.
I am visualising the Northern Lights for you as I meditate, for they would surely complement the image of this dream. I am warm, wrapped in a blanket of colour; such sweet fruity stripes which blend with the scene. I have my wizard staff for comfort and a decanter, like my life, half-full of a magic brew, known only to me (and you). When I awake I shall play my mandolin and serenade you from afar. The rocks are warm beneath my padded mattress; I am steeped in solitude, all that life has it gives to me. I wish you were here.
(Magpie Tales time again).